


love is just another leap of faith

by 97skies



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Constipation, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, I Made Myself Cry, Jeon Wonwoo is Whipped, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Minor Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Post-Break Up, ft lee chan's bde, kwon soonyoung u wonderful chaos being, my svtwice agenda rise!, sana is the loml, wonwoo can't drink, wonwoo is a sad boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/97skies/pseuds/97skies
Summary: Wonwoo wakes up in a cold sweat—like he normally does—and reaches over to grasp desperately at the left side of his mattress.It’s cool and empty, and the panic rolls over his body, quick and angry, until he remembers that yes, he is alone. No, this is not abnormal. Unfortunate? Depressing? The opposite of what he wants? Yes, all of those things, but not abnormal.(or: wonwoo loves soonyoung. soonyoung loves wonwoo. the problem is, wonwoo is stupid.)
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80





	love is just another leap of faith

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi! welcome back to i am Procrastinating and Alone!!!
> 
> so... soonwoo is my comfort ship and this idea was a brainworm and i had to write it ahahaha. idk... something about soonwoo just screams 'i will love u forever' as well as lots of angst... even though i can't write slow burn or angst to save my life idk bear with me. 
> 
> ft my seventwice besties agenda & my deep and unyielding love for lee chan! 
> 
> title from [fever dream](https://open.spotify.com/track/5xgLPaEWNbJB4uVc7LIgbe) by mxmtoon bc that song is everything to me and maia is a goddess. this really is some brain vomit that had me sobbing at 5am bc i am alone and soonwoo r in love and hahaha emotions r hard???
> 
> ***some minor tws/cws***  
> *mentions of minor head injuries: it's really brief and not at all graphic, but there is a mention of blood.  
> *mentions of wanting to vomit: again, not graphic & there is no actual vomiting  
> *mentions of alcohol/drinking
> 
> ***this fic is kinda sad!***
> 
> it works out in the end and everything is okay (lots of fluff too—i can never resist) but wonwoo is a sad boy just going through it, and there is some serious self-deprecating and negative self-talk. please be aware & keep that in mind before reading!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this mess! horanghae 🐯

Wonwoo wakes up in a cold sweat—like he normally does—and reaches over to grasp desperately at the left side of his mattress. 

It’s cool and empty, and the panic rolls over his body, quick and angry, until he remembers that yes, he is alone. No, this is not abnormal. Unfortunate? Depressing? The opposite of what he wants? Yes, all of those things, but not abnormal. 

He groans, because it’s early and he still has a solid 20 minutes before his alarm, but he knows he won’t be going back to sleep. Sleep has sort of become his unyielding enemy, only deciding to come to him when he’s on the train or trying to watch the new episode of his favorite anime. Sana says he should go see a psychiatrist, but that’s a lot of work. And Wonwoo almost feels like he deserves it, sometimes. So he rubs his eyes, stretching, and pulls himself out of his bed to slink into the shower. 

The hot water doesn’t have exactly the effect he’s hoping for, but it eases the ache in his neck and wipes away some of the exhaustion from his eyes. The bright green tub of exfoliator glares at him from the shelf, and he almost insults it. It’s  _ exfoliator _ , for fuck’s sake. How could it possibly be  _ glaring _ at him? But it does, anyway, and he frowns as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. It’s probably expired, but Wonwoo wouldn’t know. He hasn’t touched it for over a year, and even when he used it, he never applied it himself. The thought stings, and he turns away from the stupid tub to dunk his head under the stream.

Breakfast at home is always depressing and somehow manages to make him cry, so he grabs his work bag and his keys and heads out the door, pausing for a moment to sigh at his wilting pot of flowers on the shelf next to the door. They’re doing better than a few weeks ago, but that’s mainly because of Mingyu coming over and trying to coax them back to health. Wonwoo resigns to texting him again, and locks his apartment door, not stopping to admire the little splintering pieces of wood near the lock. The goal for this morning is to  _ not _ cry. 

Seungcheol’s coffee shop is busier than usual, but Vernon spots him as he shuffles in the door. Based on the shift in his eyes, Wonwoo assumes that he looks just as shitty as he feels. He skips past the line, leaning over the counter in the pick-up area, but Vernon waves his hand and gives a thumbs up; he hangs back, keeping his eyes on the menu or his phone until Vernon calls his name. He exchanges his cash for a coffee and a bag. 

“Here, hyung. I got you a bagel, too.” 

Wonwoo might cry, which sucks, but Vernon is awesome. “I owe you my life.” 

“No worries, I’ll see you at hyung’s tonight?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Wanna ride together?” Wonwoo will absolutely be at Seungcheol’s for game night, because it’s pretty much been the best part of his week for the past year. 

Vernon bristles, apologetic. “Seungkwannie’s gonna drop me, off, actually—”

“—right, that’s okay.” Wonwoo nods, but the pain is a pang and he needs to leave  _ now _ . 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” 

Vernon’s looking at him all splayed and concerned like he does, and Wonwoo softens. The pain morphs into a dull throb, and he pinches his cheek over the counter. 

“Don’t worry about it, Vernon-ah. I’ll see you later!” 

“Bye hyung!” Vernon calls, and Wonwoo smiles as he worms his way out of the shop. No tears yet, at least. Score. 

Work at his tech startup is pretty generic and regular, which he used to be grateful for. He still is, mostly, and it’s nice when he settles into his office and can sip on his coffee and eat his bagel in peace. He checks his emails, watches a couple cat videos on YouTube (nearly cries, again, because one is black and has big eyes and looks a little too familiar), and listens to one of Jihoon’s new demos. The stable hours used to be nice, and he never would’ve imagined in a million years that he, Jeon Wonwoo, would be begging for a little change of routine. 

Eyes glazed over, he thinks for a moment that it’s probably because his own personal change of routine has been absent from his life for almost a year and one month, but he blocks the thought out quickly.  _ God _ , crying at  _ work _ .

He checks his calendar. Yes, just shy of a year and one month. 

He opens his bottom drawer. Closes his eyes. Tells himself to close it again, without looking. He doesn’t, snaps open his eyes and looks down at the post-it.  _ have a good day at work, nonu-yahhhhhhhh!!! i love youuuuuuu.  _ He tells himself to close the drawer, that this is a bad idea. 

It is. It  _ really _ is.

He picks up the little stack of post-its, the dust smudged from all the times he’s gone through them.

_ yah, can we have kimchi-jjigae for dinner? pick it up if you can, mwuahhhh!! love youuuu!!  _

the ink color changes. 

_ your hair is so cute when you wake up. i'm gonna kiss you SO HARD later. get ready, jeon. MWAHAHAHAHA LOVE U!!!  _

the stickiness is gone from most of them. 

_ please eat ALL of this, nonu. i know u were running late this morning, so u skipped breakfast, dummy. love you!!! see you tonighhhht sexy man!!!!!  _

He’s not crying, not fully, not like the way he sobbed when he went through these notes a year ago; when the notes stopped showing up on his lunch or his work bag. The tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. 

His favorite is at the bottom of the pile. He didn’t want the ink to fade, or for the paper to get dusty. 

_ jeon wonwoo, you’re just a big dork. i love you, you big happy dummy man. see u tomorrow, and every day after that!! happy anniversary nonu!! i love u!!! love love love uuuu kisses - soonie  _

He runs his fingers over the sloppy writing, done in a rush. It’s the only one that’s signed. He presses the stupid note to his chest, and slumps his head into his hands. 

* * *

  
  


_ “Every day after that?”  _

_ “Mhm.” Soonyoung nods, grinning down at his plate.  _

_ “Promise?” Wonwoo asks, because Soonyoung says a lot of things on a whim. He hopes this isn’t one of them.  _

_ Soonyoung grips his fingers over the table, looking up with glassy eyes and his lopsided grin.  _

_ “I will spend every day for the rest of my life loving you, Jeon Wonwoo. Promise.”  _

_ Wonwoo blushes. Soonyoung’s good at making him flustered. He squeezes his fingers, smile too big for his face.  _

(It’s exactly three months after that when Wonwoo lays awake, staring at the ceiling. He never said it back.)

* * *

  
  


Seungcheol’s apartment is warm, like always. Mingyu opens the door with a grin. “Hyung! Glad you could make it!”

Wonwoo smiles as he toes off his shoes. He can hear Seungcheol laughing from the kitchen, probably at Vernon. “Me too, man.” 

“Are you hungry? If you’re gonna drink, you should probably eat something.” Wonwoo snorts at that, trailing behind Mingyu into the kitchen. He’s definitely right, though; Wonwoo can barely take a few shots of soju without getting plastered. 

Game night became a thing at Seungcheol’s apartment a few months after Wonwoo and Soonyoung split, and by proxy, demolished their friend group. Well, kind of. Everyone’s still friends with Soonyoung, because he’s  _ Soonyoung _ , and everyone except for Vernon, Mingyu, Seungcheol, Jihoon, and Joshua (sometimes—depending on his mood and proximity to Jeonghan) had declared a cold war on Wonwoo. He doesn’t blame them, though. Thus, game night came into existence so Wonwoo could hang out with his few remaining friends without feeling terrible for a few hours. It mostly works. 

They play Smash and eat pizza and talk about Mingyu’s blue balls from his latest conquest, some idol with tattoos and doe eyes, and Wonwoo laughs and crushes Seungcheol as Link. 

“Guys, guys…” Seungcheol starts, after pouting and refusing to let go of the controller. 

Jihoon cocks his head from the kitchen table. “What?” 

“I’m kind of drunk,” 

“Yeah, we know.” Mingyu snorts. 

“No, listen, Mingyu-yah,” He pouts. “I’m kind of drunk, but I need to tell you guys something.” 

“Oh?” Vernon asks, taking a sip from his beer. “What is it?” 

He giggles, then bites his lip. “Jeonghan… proposed to me.” 

“What?” “Hyung, are you serious?” “ _ He _ proposed to  _ you _ ?”

That last one comes from Jihoon, holding back a laugh. Seungcheol frowns and fixes him with a look. “Yes,  _ he _ proposed to  _ me _ . And yes, I’m serious.” 

“That’s great, hyung, I’m really happy for you.” Wonwoo says, almost independent of himself. They look up at him, a little surprised, and he can’t help but feel a little shocked, too. But, hey, it was probably the right thing to say, and it’s not entirely untrue, so he goes with it. 

Seungcheol’s grin comes to him in slow motion. “... thanks, Wonwoo. That means a lot.” He reaches over and ruffles Wonwoo’s hair. 

“How did he propose?” “When’s the wedding?” “Oh my god, are you guys gonna have kids?” 

Mingyu’s vibrating with anticipation, but the questions start to fade into the background. Wonwoo’s happy for them, he really is. But he starts spiraling anyway, because he’s definitely drunk and definitely still Wonwoo. Dating is  _ not _ the same as being married, even if Jeonghan is nice enough to remove himself from their apartment for game night. Wonwoo can’t possibly ask Seungcheol to kick out his  _ spouse _ just so that they can hang out, because he knows Jeonghan wants nothing to do with him. Again, he doesn’t blame him. Wonwoo doesn’t really want anything to do with himself, either. 

He stares at the beer bottle on the table. Vernon had offered it to him earlier, but Wonwoo had already had two, and that’s more than enough. He reaches over and twists open the cap, ignoring Jihoon’s pointed look. 

  
  


Okay, Wonwoo gets fucking  _ wasted _ . Mingyu tries to call him a cab, but Wonwoo covers his mouth and waves him off, and Seungcheol slurs that he can crash on the couch. Even drunk, Wonwoo knows that the last place he wants to sleep is Jeonghan’s couch, for fear of his life or wallet or genitals. So he finds his way out of Seungcheol’s apartment block and wanders home, electing to ignore Sana calling him again and again, because he doesn’t really want to be lectured or ride in a car with her and her loving girlfriend. 

He doesn’t know how he ends up in front of Soonyoung’s door, but he does. 

Wonwoo slumps against the railing, facing the door. The lights are on, and there’s faint music coming from the direction of Soonyoung’s room. Maybe he’s practicing some new choreography, or watching a Shinee stage mix. It’s not actually Soonyoung’s apartment; he was never on the lease. But Lee Chan loves Soonyoung unconditionally, so when Soonyoung left his and Wonwoo’s apartment in tears and asked for a place to stay, Chan and Seungkwan never  could have said no. Not to their favorite hyung, not ever. 

Wonwoo used to do this a lot. Get drunk and show up at their doorstep, sit by the railing until he sobered up, then call Mingyu or Sana and get picked up and driven home. He never could build up the courage to knock. 

Now, with the music and the thought that Soonyoung is  _ right there _ , so close yet so far, he almost does. Soonyoung, with his pouts and squishy cheeks and unbreakable determination. Soonyoung, the bravest person he’s ever known. Soonyoung, always warm and huffing hot breath onto his frozen fingers. 

But Wonwoo is a coward. 

He hears the lock opening, anyway, and his alcohol-drenched brain barrels into panic mode. Holy fuck, Soonyoung is opening the door with his cute fingers and he’s going to see Wonwoo, drunk and pathetic and outside his apartment. Shit, what if he calls the cops? Maybe Wonwoo should go to jail, because this is  _ way _ creepy and out of line, but he perks up anyway because he doesn’t really care. It’s still Soonyoung, a few feet away and so,  _ so _ close. 

The door cracks open, and his eyes focus on the house slippers. His brows pinch in confusion. They’re plain black and fuzzy, which is wrong, because Soonyoung wouldn’t part with his tiger slippers even in death. Then there’s silky pajama pants, which is also wrong, because Soonyoung sleeps in ratty sweatpants, then there’s a nice embroidered robe and Wonwoo drags his eyes up because this is just,  _ what— _

A petulant sigh. “This is sad, Wonwoo-ssi.” Minghao quips, but he sounds more disappointed than angry. Wonwoo’s shoulders slump. “He’s not here, by the way.” 

“Who’s playing  _ Juliette _ , then?” Wonwoo croaks, his dignity laying plainly on the floor between them. 

Minghao lets out a chuckle. It’s been so long, Wonwoo had almost forgotten what he sounded like. “That would be me, I’m in a Shinee phase.” He leans against the door frame. “You’re lucky that they’re out. Chan and Seungkwan would’ve had your ass on a platter.” 

“You’re not going to kick my ass, then?” Wonwoo asks. His voice is so small, he almost cringes. 

Minghao looks down at him with a sad, sympathetic look. Wonwoo kind of wishes he was getting cursed out right now. “No, Wonwoo. I’m not going to kick your ass.” 

Wonwoo pulls his knees up against his chest. “Okay.” He mumbles. 

Minghao crosses his arms, deciding. He turns back inside and grabs his keys, then locks the door behind him. Wonwoo looks up, very confused, because Minghao doesn’t even  _ live _ here. (Shit, maybe he does. A lot changes in a year.) Minghao holds out his hand and says, soft and not at all the deadpan smartass Wonwoo remembers, “C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

  
  


Minghao still drives his nice SUV, and he’s still a good driver. He turns on the radio and lets some new idol group sing about being lovesick as Wonwoo leans against the window and bounces between wanting to cry and wanting to puke. Puking seems like the better option, at this point. 

“They’re at a party with some of Chan’s idol friends. I was watching Hoshi.” 

Wonwoo almost sobs. He  _ was _ Soonyoung’s cat, but Wonwoo had felt like a part of his chest had been ripped out when he came back to his apartment and found the water bowl and litter box gone. 

“Really, you’re lucky it was me.” 

“I thought I was at the top of your hit list.” 

Minghao gives a small smile, watching the road. “We all have to grow up at some point, Wonwoo. And killing you wouldn’t have made Soonyoungie-hyung feel any better.” 

“Don’t you hate me? I kind of hate me.” Wonwoo pouts, because somehow Minghao has made him want to bear his soul, what the fuck. He is  _ so _ drunk. 

Minghao goes quiet for a moment. “I don’t hate you, Wonwoo.” They pull up outside of Wonwoo’s apartment, much quicker than he could have anticipated. He’s drunk, but shit, that was fast. Minghao turns off the car and looks at him. “If you hate you, though, I think you should focus on that.” 

“I’m so stupid.” Wonwoo slumps. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Minghao shrugs. “Like I said, we all have to grow up at some point.” 

He helps Wonwoo inside of his apartment. He even stands outside and makes sure Wonwoo locks the door, then knocks on the window before he leaves. Wonwoo sits on his bathroom floor and cries, staring at the empty space where the litter box used to be. 

* * *

  
  


_ “I’m so stupid.” Wonwoo mumbles, his face buried in the crook of Soonyoung’s neck. “You make me stupid.”  _

_ Soonyoung snorts. “I make you stupid?” He pulls Wonwoo’s face back so he can look at him properly. “I think you do that just fine on your own, Jeon.”  _

_ Wonwoo pouts. Hoshi hops up onto their bed and starts kneading into Wonwoo’s pillow. Soonyoung lets out a cackle, and Wonwoo frowns, trying to keep his mouth from turning up. It’s hard, especially when Soonyoung’s laugh sounds like all of Wonwoo’s favorite sounds combined.  _

_ “He likes you, Nonu.”  _

_ “He better, I pay for his sustenance.”  _

_ Soonyoung clicks his tongue and plops Hoshi onto his stomach, next to Wonwoo nuzzling into his side. “You don’t understand. Hoshi is an excellent judge of character.”  _

_ “Is that why he sleeps on my head instead of yours?”  _

_ Soonyoung grins, the little dimples next to his cheeks peeking out. “Precisely.” He presses a loud peck onto Wonwoo’s cheek. “Like father like son. We’re very fond of our Wonwoo.”  _

* * *

  
  


Wonwoo wakes up on his bathroom floor, with a pounding headache and a deep pain in his neck. Then, there’s a violent banging on his door, followed by a high-pitched voice yelling “Jeon Wonwoo! You get your hungover ass over here and  _ open _ this door, or I’ll kick it down! Do  _ not _ test me!” 

He groans and rubs a hand down his face. The banging persists, and he knows that resistance is futile. Dragging his feet, he slinks over to the door and opens it to find Sana, arms crossed and very irritated. Also, very put together for—he glances at his phone—11am. Shit. 

“You get wasted, call me, and then ignore my calls for the rest of the night?” She pushes past him to kick off her shoes, and he stands, processing just how she is moving so quickly when his body feels like molasses. “I was worried sick, you ass.” 

“I’m alive, promise.”

“Yeah, barely. You need a shower.” She wrinkles her nose, which is a little rude. She looks up at him, and then sighs in exasperation. “You went to Soonyoung’s, didn’t you?” 

Jesus, is she a psychic? “What?” 

“You have your sad,  _ i-lost-the-love-of-my-life-and-it’s-all-my-fault _ face on.” 

Wonwoo rubs his eyes and starts to walk to the kitchen, despite his brain feeling like molten lava. Sana follows hot on his toes. “Don’t I always look like that?” 

“Yes, but  _ more _ when you go to his apartment.” She plops down at the kitchen table and props up her feet. “Two sugars.” She says, watching him turn on the coffee maker. He glares at her, but her smile is unwavering. Rude. 

“Maybe I did.” 

“Wonwoo-yah, we’ve talked about this.” 

“I’m aware, but it always seems like a good idea when I’m drunk.”

“You should try it when you’re sober,” She quips, rolling her eyes. “Maybe then you’d actually say something.” 

He leans against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head is still pounding. “I think the opposite would happen, actually.” 

“You’re such a coward.” She has the nerve to laugh, colorless and mocking. What the  _ fuck _ . 

“I’m aware, and you’re a dick.” 

She sits up in her chair, sighing dramatically. “It’s been a year, Wonwoo.” His shoulders slump. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I thought you would feel better eventually but, this?” She gestures to his jeans from last night and greasy hair. “I’m thinking we should switch tactics.” 

“What?” 

She shifts, chewing on her cheek, then she raises an eyebrow. “Chaeng and Tzuyu went to a party last night.” The coffee maker dings, and Wonwoo turns around to grab his cup, then pulls another mug down from one of the shelves. He winces when he lifts his arm. Bathroom floor, not great for muscle health. “Okay?” 

“Chan invited them.” 

“Oh.” 

“Soonyoung was there.” 

Wonwoo’s head is pounding aggressively, and the fucking  _ last _ thing he needs to think about is Soonyoung dancing and happy and hooking up with another guy at some idol’s houseparty. “Why are you telling me this? Is the new tactic  _ more _ misery?”

“Wonwoo,” She huffs, scowling. “Chaengie said he got so drunk that he sat down in the driveway and cried. Jun had to come and carry him home.” 

Wonwoo feels his face fall. The pounding in his head is quickly overshadowed by the deep ache in his chest. Soonyoung  _ feels _ more than anyone he’s ever known, and when he gets drunk it’s magnified by about 6000. At Wonwoo’s 25th birthday party, he was dancing on the table when Wonwoo walked away to get a cupcake; when he came back, Soonyoung was sobbing into Jeonghan’s chest, and threw himself onto Wonwoo, saying he thought he had died. Now, Wonwoo’s choked up at the thought of Soonyoung sitting by himself and sobbing into his hands, sitting on the cold concrete.

He swallows. “Again, why are you telling me this?” 

Sana groans, standing up to glare at him. She’s tiny, but it’s still extremely effective. “You’re miserable, Wonwoo! And you’re convinced that he’s the only person you’ll ever love, _blah blah_ _blah_ , some other gay shit I don’t have time for, _blah blah_.” 

“You’re such a good friend, you know that?” 

“He’s miserable too! It’s time to pull on the big boy pants and get over your emotional constipation.” 

Wonwoo’s palms sweat even at the idea. “He was crying, but that doesn’t mean he was crying about me.” She smacks the back of his head. “Ow! What the hell?” 

“It’s been a year, why doesn’t he have a new guy?” 

“He probably does, he’s incredible.” 

Her eyes roll so hard he’s surprised they stay in her head. “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you think Soonyoung— _ Kwon Soonyoung _ —would get a new boyfriend and manage to refrain from posting it all over his SNS?” 

“I don’t know, Sana, maybe?” He huffs. “Besides, what do you want me to do? I fucked up.” The memory burns fresh at the back of his mind, like it was yesterday. “I fucked up.” 

She softens. “I know.” She picks herself up right away, though, and crosses her arms. “If he’s the love of your life, Wonwoo, don’t you think he deserves for you to try and fix it?” 

His head falls until his chin bumps into his chest. He’s too hungover for this. He’s too much of  _ himself _ for this. Because it’s easy to tell Sana what’s wrong, when she’s been around since he was a bumbling teenager. When she was always there to wipe his tears and encourage him, even when her Korean was broken and clunky. She saw him messed up and terrible, and she helped to pick him up and push him forward. 

Soonyoung is different. He’s good, and loud, and happy. He doesn’t deserve Wonwoo, who gets so overwhelmed by his feelings that he clams up and folds in on himself. Soonyoung, who talks and spills out his thoughts like a river, all the good and the bad. He deserves better than Wonwoo, who holds in his feelings like they’ll kill him on the exhale. Soonyoung, who put up with him for  _ three _ fucking years, picking him apart and holding him when he cried for no reason. Soonyoung, who loves like there’s no tomorrow and like it doesn’t matter that Wonwoo can’t seem to say all the things he thinks and feels for him, because Soonyoung already knows. Soonyoung can say it for him. 

Soonyoung is too good. He doesn’t deserve that. 

“Wonwoo-yah.” She steps into his space and picks up his chin. “You have a good heart. You just have to learn how to use it.” 

The tears prickle on his lashes. He’s too hungover for this. 

* * *

  
  


_ They meet on a July evening, just after Wonwoo’s birthday. Momo, Sana’s soon-to-be girlfriend introduces them.  _

_ “Wonwoo-yah, this is my friend, Soonyoungie! He’s a really good dancer.”  _

_ Wonwoo grins. He’s 21 and stupid, almost done with school and happy to meet any of Sana’s cool artsy friends.  _

_ “Hi, I’m Wonwoo.” He waves.  _

_ Soonyoung smiles, bright teeth and eyes pinched by his cheeks. Wonwoo has the unbelievable urge to squish them. “Hi, Wonwoo. I’m Soonyoung.”  _

_ His smile twists, like he has a secret that he can’t wait to tell. Wonwoo has the sudden urge to know what it is.  _

_ “Wonwoo, do you like to dance?”  _

_ They’re outside of some club in Itaewon. Wonwoo only agreed to come because Jeongyeon said drinks were on her. He’d planned on spending the night glued to the wall and watching his friends get plastered and look like idiots on the dance floor.  _

_ Soonyoung’s face tells him that his plans might be changing. That might not be so bad.  _

_ “I’m terrible at it, actually.”  _

_ The cat that ate the canary, that’s the smile Soonyoung gives him before linking their arms. They’re both in short sleeves; it’s been a hot summer. Soonyoung is very warm, and very soft.  _

_ “Perfect.”  _

  
  


* * *

  
  


Vernon visits him at work one day that week, on his lunch break. He brings convenience store kimbap and cans of iced coffee. It’s nice. 

Wonwoo still feels like shit. Man,  _ fuck _ Sana. 

Vernon seems to notice, but he doesn’t say anything. Wonwoo is grateful; he appreciates the chance to talk about video games and the new idol group Vernon’s writing for, or even the  _ weather _ , he doesn’t care. 

“Do you wanna get dinner tomorrow? Mingyu said something about this new galbi place he found.” 

Vernon winces. “Sorry, hyung, I can’t tomorrow.” He looks apologetic, and Wonwoo hates it. “It’s actually, um, our anniversary.” 

Wonwoo’s eyebrows shoot into his hair. “Oh my god, I totally forgot,” He laughs. “Congrats, man, what is that, three years?” 

“Yeah, three years.” Vernon nods, but he looks a little bashful. Wonwoo pinches his cheek. “We’re just saying in, though, Seungkwannie didn’t wanna do anything crazy.” 

“That’s good, I always knew you guys were good together.” 

Vernon chuckles. “It’s funny,” He shakes his head. “I always thought you guys would be together forever.” 

Wonwoo tenses up. “Me and Soonyoung?” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry—I didn’t mean to—” 

“It’s okay.” Wonwoo sighs. This is life, now. May as well get used to it. “Why do you say that?” 

Vernon twists up his face, considering. “I mean, you guys liked each other even longer than Seungkwan and I did. It was, what, two years before you actually got together?” Wonwoo nods, memories prickling underneath his skin. “You just fit. I mean, Seungkwan and I were whipped, but you guys—” He tilts his head. “—geez.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Vernon adds, patting his arm. “I know how much you loved him.” 

Wonwoo almost laughs. Loved. 

* * *

  
  


_ Vernon’s right. It’s two long years of sneaking glances and lingering touches. Wonwoo’s friends become Soonyoung’s friends, and vice versa. Two years of mother-may-i-ing their way through parties and hanging out and falling asleep in each other’s beds. Soonyoung blames it on being a 20-something, and that Wonwoo’s always tired. Wonwoo blames it on the fact that Soonyoung is Soonyoung, and he’s the friendliest person alive. Two years of holding the wishbone with one hand and holding each other’s with the other, both of them pretending that it’s because Wonwoo’s hands get cold so fast.  _

_ “Wonwoo-yah, you like that dancer, don’t you?” “Wonwoo-yah, don’t make me ask him out for you.” “Wonwoo-yah, just tell him how you feel!”  _

_ Wonwoo would if he could. But Soonyoung sets him on fire.  _

_ Soonyoung seals his edges and makes him feel like words aren’t enough. Like nothing, nothing could ever be enough to describe how he feels about the pout that Soonyoung gets when he’s determined, or how he takes everything in stride, like every mistake or misstep is a badge to be worn with pride, or how he shouts and bubbles when he’s excited and makes Wonwoo excited, too.  _

_ Because Wonwoo is quiet and withdrawn, but Soonyoung makes him want to laugh with light lungs and scream all the things he has to say.  _

_ Soonyoung is all risk and all reward, even when he loses. Because he throws his whole heart into everything, and he jumps off of cement walls without fear because he knows Wonwoo will catch him. And Wonwoo does. He always does.  _

_ Wonwoo doesn’t trust himself. He doesn’t believe that his words are enough, he believes that his heart is too small and weak, too easily overshadowed by Soonyoung’s. He doesn’t like risk.  _

_ So, Wonwoo diligently holds his half of the wishbone. Determinately holds Soonyoung’s hand and keeps his feelings tampered down behind his tongue.  _

_ Soonyoung breaks the wishbone. Nobody is surprised.  _

_ It’s in late June. Between their birthdays. They’re standing outside Wonwoo’s apartment. It’s already filled with Soonyoung’s clothes and mugs and toothbrush, but Wonwoo’s convinced himself it means nothing.  _

_ “Are you gonna stay? It’s kinda late.” He says, pulling out his keys. They had barbeque for dinner after Soonyoung’s dance class.  _

_ Soonyoung tips his head back. “Do you want me to stay?”  _

_ “Uh, I mean—” Wonwoo flushes. “You can, if you want to.”  _

_ Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow. He’s wearing a sleeveless top. It’s distracting, and the little shit knows it. “But do  _ **_you_ ** _ want me to?”  _

_ “If you want to, then sure.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes.  _

_ “Jeon, do you like me?”  _

_ Wonwoo’s mouth fills with cotton and his whole body breaks into a sweat. “Huh?”  _

_ “Do you like me?”  _

_ “I mean—yeah, of course, you’re like—my best friend—”  _

_ “Wonwoo.” Soonyoung cuts him off, trying not to laugh. He takes a step forward, and suddenly their height difference feels like nothing. “Do you want to kiss me?”  _

_ Wonwoo’s brain leaks out of his ears. This absolutely does not compute. “Uh,” is his very eloquent answer. Soonyoung’s laughter bubbles out of his mouth, and it pangs in Wonwoo’s chest.  _

_ “Do you?”  _

_ “Yes, please.” Wonwoo chokes out, deathgrip on his keys. Soonyoung snorts.  _

_ “Good.” Soonyoung says, pushing Wonwoo up against the door and kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. There might not be, for Wonwoo. Soonyoung’s lips are soft and sweet and maybe he tastes like bulgogi but Wonwoo doesn’t care.  _

_ Just as he gets a good flow sucking on Soonyoung’s bottom lip, Soonyoung pulls back, breathless and blushing. Wonwoo chases his lips for a second, and Soonyoung chuckles.  _

_ “Do you maybe wanna—?” He gestures to the door Wonwoo is smushed up against.  _

_ Wonwoo huffs, trying to catch his breath. “Yes, yes—right.” He says, pushing up his glasses and fumbling with his keys. He hurriedly unlocks the door, but something is wrong, because the knob is turning but the door won’t budge. Wonwoo pushes, once, twice, and Soonyoung laughs from behind him. He can feel his ears heating up as Soonyoung asks “Here, can I try?” and oh fuck it, fuck this door, fuck this all, and he takes his shoulder and slams it into the door. It opens, finally, the wood splintering around the lock.  _

_ Wonwoo turns back to find Soonyoung doubled over, laughing, and he fumbles his hands, embarrassed. Soonyoung straightens up, still laughing, but his eyes are shiny and beautiful. He pushes Wonwoo back into the apartment, grinning.  _

_ He pulls Wonwoo down to kiss him again, but not before he giggles “god, you’re such a dork.”  _

* * *

He eats dinner alone, that night. Watches his favorite anime at the moment. It’s kinda weird and he doesn’t even really understand gambling, but the theme song is catchy and the art style is pretty. It’s Chinese takeout, because Soonyoung was always the one who could cook. 

He slumps into the couch and stalks all of Soonyoung’s friends on SNS. There’s nothing, really, just pictures from Everland and congratulating Jihoon on another successful song. Engagement announcements from Jeonghan and Seungcheol. They got together a year after Soonyoung and Wonwoo. They look happy. Wonwoo turns off his phone. 

He washes the dishes, even sorts his laundry. He likes being alone. Well, he did, before he lived with Soonyoung, and life became an adventure. They were always out, and even when they weren’t, Soonyoung was belting an idol song on the couch or trying some new recipe from Junhui. They were playing video games on the couch, Soonyoung complaining that Wonwoo always let him win. He couldn’t help himself, really.

The quiet is just a little suffocating. 

Not that he suddenly became wild and outgoing. Soonyoung never minded when he needed to be by himself. But, it was different, taking his switch into their bedroom to play Zelda, knowing that Soonyoung was always waiting when he was ready. Or, if he fell asleep, he could sleep knowing that Soonyoung would be tucked into his side when he woke up in the morning. 

He straightens the cushions on the couch. Settles on his bed. There is no small voice humming Jonghyun’s solo song, or the constant shuffle of his feet, always doing something new. It’s the sound of Wonwoo shifting in his sheets and breathing, shallow. 

He gets a text from Sana, unprompted. Maybe she  _ is _ a psychic:  _ are you gonna eat alone forever, Wonwoo-yah? _

* * *

  
  


_ “Soonie, I don’t understand—?”  _

_ “Just answer the question, Wonwoo.” _

_ “You didn’t ask me anything?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. _

_ It’s a pointless fight, in late August. Something that happens in sweltering heat, when Soonyoung feels trapped in the apartment and Wonwoo’s spent too much time bent over his laptop.  _

_ “Are we going anywhere?”  _

_ Wonwoo knits his eyebrows in confusion. He’s pretty sure this fight started because he didn’t want Japanese food. “Like, us?” Soonyoung nods, but he’s irritated, like he can’t believe Wonwoo doesn’t understand. “I mean—do you want to go somewhere?”  _

_ “Fuck, Wonwoo, why can’t you ever just give me an answer?”  _

_ “You mean like, be something more? We already live together, Soonyoung.”  _

_ “Okay, and? Do you—” He pauses, closing his eyes. “Do you want to be together, long term?”  _

_ Wonwoo searches his face. “Of course, if that’s what you want—” _

_ “What the fuck do you want, Wonwoo?”  _

_ “I want you to stop fucking screaming at me, Soonyoung!” Wonwoo shouts back, because he’s so, so confused. Soonyoung sucks in a breath.  _

_ “I just don’t know what we’re doing here.” he says it stiffly, slowly, and Hoshi circles his feet.  _

_ Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’re dating? Do you want to get married, or something?”  _

_ “Wow,” Soonyoung scoffs, crossing his arms. His voice is wet. “Some proposal, Wonwoo.”  _

_ “Soonyoung, no, you know that’s not what I—”  _

_ “Do you love me?”  _

_ Wonwoo steps forward toward him. “What?”  _

_ “Do you love me, Wonwoo?”  _

_ Wonwoo swallows. Yes. More than he’s ever felt anything in his whole life, yes. The words get caught in his throat, though and he chokes. He croaks out, “Yes.”  _

_ “Is that all?” Soonyoung’s cheeks are wet, and Wonwoo just wants to hold him. “Just, ‘yes’?” _

_ “I love you, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo says. Because he’s kind. And brave. And funny, and smart, and thoughtful, and intuitive, and captivating, and loyal, and good and— _

_ “Is that enough, Wonwoo?”  _

_ Wonwoo stops. Pauses. Soonyoung is staring at him like it isn’t.  _

_ “Is it not?”  _

_ “No, Wonwoo, it isn’t.”  _

_ Wonwoo’s heart picks up. He clenches his fist. “Well, what else do you want?”  _

_ “What do you want?”  _

_ Wonwoo scoffs at the look on Soonyoung’s face. Always so fucking smug. “I want whatever it takes for this fight to end.”  _

_ “Is that it?” Soonyoung shouts. “Is that all you want?”  _

_ “Yes!” Wonwoo says, anger welling in his stomach. What is even happening? _

_ “Well you could leave! That would certainly end it!”  _

_ Wonwoo stops, brows furrowed. “You want me to leave?”  _

_ “Do you want to leave?” Soonyoung asks, a whisper laced with venom. His voice is still wet.  _

_ Wonwoo can feel his pride thrumming in the back of his throat. “If you want me to.”  _

_ Soonyoung looks up, eyes red and narrowed. “Don’t do what I want, Wonwoo. Do what you want.”  _

_ Wonwoo swallows. His vision is blurry. He doesn’t even know why he’s mad, but it’s hard to think. “Fine, Soonyoung,” He spits, grabbing his keys from the clay bowl Seungkwan made for them in his ceramics class. “Fine.”  _

_ The anger drains out of Soonyoung’s face, and it quickly fills with panic. Wonwoo hates the way he revels in it.  _

_ “Wait, Wonwoo, wait—” He shuffles around the couch, but Wonwoo’s already shoving on his sandals, flinging open the door. “Wonwoo—” He yells, frantic, and Wonwoo slams the door behind him.  _

_ He leaves. Doesn’t go far, walks to the convenience store and browses the aisles.  _

_ He left.  _

_ He feels like a coward. Only cowards run.  _

_ He waits for the call from Soonyoung, so he can pick up and apologize. He’ll grab some kimchi-jjigae on the way home to make up for it.  _

_ The call never comes.  _

_ He eventually goes home. He calls out Soonyoung’s name, but there’s no answer. Most of his stuff is gone, which makes Wonwoo’s head spin, like maybe he was never really there. But there's a dust mark where his laptop sat, and their drawers are a mess.  _

_ Wonwoo supposes it’s not impossible. Soonyoung has a lot of friends. And Soonyoung is also impulsive enough to call them and ask for help moving out in less than four hours. He calls for Hoshi, but the cat doesn’t come. When he checks, the litter box is gone, and so is all the cat food. That’s when it’s real. And it’s Wonwoo’s fault.  _

_ He could call. He could grovel, apologize, beg for Soonyoung to come back. _

_ But Wonwoo is a coward.  _

_ He sits on the floor of the kitchen and cries until the sun comes up. He falls asleep, but wakes up in a cold sweat.  _

* * *

  
  


“You’re a coward, hyung.” 

Wonwoo snaps his head towards the voice, confused and mildly offended. He’s sitting in his favorite PC bang, a safe space, and honestly the last place he’d be expecting to be called a coward and  _ hyung  _ in the same sentence. 

He looks up to find Lee Chan, staring down at him with a blank expression. And, wow, Wonwoo hasn’t seen him in a  _ long _ time. 

The last time he saw Lee Chan was over a year ago, when he was 23 and still going through his awkward second-puberty. Now, he stands, broad and sharp, his favorite purple hoodie replaced with a black turtleneck and a blazer. Maybe he snuck into Minghao’s closet. He’s still wearing his favorite converse, though. 

“Excuse me?” Wonwoo asks, more surprised at the  _ hyung  _ than the  _ coward _ . He didn’t think any of Soonyoung’s friends would have bothered using honorifics on him anymore, especially Chan.

Chan was practically Soonyoung’s adopted brother. They were attached at the hip, and it was customary that Chan slept over at their apartment at least twice a week. When they broke up, Wonwoo was positive he was going to wake up to Chan standing over him, ready to deliver him to a shallow grave. 

“I said: you’re a coward, hyung.” He says, matter-of-factly, as he slides into the seat next to Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo tenses. “Okay?” 

“Myungho-hyung told me that you showed up at our place again.” 

Wonwoo almost chokes on his spit. “Again?” 

Chan laughs, his face relaxing for the first time since he’s sat down next to Wonwoo. “You really thought we didn’t notice, all those times you came and sat outside and cried?” 

“I didn’t cry, I was just drunk.” 

Chan raises his eyebrows, but focuses his eyes on the screen in front of him. 

“Are you gonna call the cops, or something?” 

He snorts. “On you, Jeon Wonwoo? Please, you’re harmless.” He shakes his head. “You never even knocked.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Wonwoo turns back to his own screen, shrugging. “I’m a coward, remember?” 

Chan clicks his tongue. “I don’t do stuff like this.” 

“... okay?”

“This isn’t my place, and trust me, you can rot in hell for all I care.” 

Wonwoo snorts. “Again, okay?” 

Chan sighs. “But I care about Soonyoungie-hyung.” Wonwoo feels his body freeze up. “And you’re the fucking densest person alive, so I’m here to help you along.” 

“What?” Wonwoo turns to Chan, who keeps facing his screen. Which is a little irritating, but Wonwoo figures he has to be patient to hear whatever he’s trying to say. 

“Soonyoungie-hyung still loves you. He never stopped, apparently, and he cries about it, like—all the time.” Wonwoo sucks in a breath. “All he does is mope around and miss you and it’s pretty miserable for the rest of us, but that’s not the point.” 

Chan bites on his cheek, focusing on the screen. Wonwoo’s practically vibrating in his seat. 

“We even took him to this party with all these idols and he just got super drunk and sat in the driveway and cried about you. Jun-hyung carried him home singing that one Red Velvet song.” 

He sighs. “You have to fix this.” 

“ _ How _ ?” Wonwoo rasps, exasperated. This is happening. It might be some sort of hallucination, but whatever. 

“Stop being a coward.” 

“Oh, yeah, thanks. I’ll get right on that.” 

Chan rolls his eyes. “I’ve relived that stupid fight with Soonyoung-hyung enough times that it feels like I was  _ there _ , hyung.” Wonwoo furrows his brows. “You’re too scared to do anything. Too scared to break what you have, and then it breaks because you saw it breaking but didn’t know how to fix it without making it worse. Then you blame yourself and wallow and nothing ever changes.” 

Wow. Wonwoo didn’t exactly sign up to be psychoanalyzed today, but here he is. “Stop being scared. You can’t make it worse, can you? You’re both already miserable.” 

“You underestimate me.” 

“No, that’s the problem,” Chan says emphatically, entirely to the screen (where he’s kicking ass, honestly). “You underestimate Soonyoungie-hyung. He loves you so much; he just needs to know that you’re not afraid to love him back.” 

Wonwoo sits back, the words rolling around in his skull. Chan looks so grown up. Nothing like the kid he’d help study for his math exams or make coffee for in a travel mug. “When did you get so smart?” 

He shrugs. “Myungho-hyung says we all have to grow up at some point.” He looks at Wonwoo for the first time, and Wonwoo thinks about how long of a year it’s been. “I think it’s your turn now, hyung.” 

* * *

  
  


_ “Soonie?”  _

_ “Shh, shh!” Soonyoung whispers, charging into the hallway to cover Wonwoo’s mouth. “Channie’s asleep on the couch.” _

_ Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, then when it’s obvious Soonyoung’s hand isn’t going anywhere, he pulls him into their bedroom.  _

_ “I love Chan, but doesn’t he have an apartment?”  _

_ Soonyoung swats at his chest. “Yes, yes, but Seungkwannie always brings Vernon over because Shua-hyung always has Junnie over. You know how couples are, he doesn’t want to third wheel.”  _

_ “Um, isn’t he third wheeling when he’s here?” Wonwoo asks, amused.  _

_ “Yes, but it’s different, because we can be quiet during sex, Seungkwan really can’t.” Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “What? I can be quiet!”  _

_ Wonwoo squishes his cheeks. “Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”  _

_ “You’re insufferable.” Soonyoung shakes his head, grinning. “And I’m about to prove you wrong, asshole.”  _

_ Soonyoung tackles Wonwoo backwards onto their bed, and it’s great and fun and sexy until,  _

_ “Motherfucker!”  _

_ “Oh my god, Wonwoo, are you okay?” Soonyoung asks frantically, scrambling off Wonwoo’s lap to peer at the part of his head that just smacked directly on the corner of the headboard. “Fuck fuck fuck, you’re bleeding.”  _

_ “Yeah, it sure feels like it.”  _

_ Soonyoung abandons all logic and reasoning, screaming “Channie, Chan-ah! Call an ambulance! Wonwoo’s going to die!”  _

_ Wonwoo doesn’t die, just needs a couple of stitches. Thankfully, Chan had also been on team let's-just-take-my-car-because-ambulances-are-expensive-and-this-is-a-minor-head-wound, much to Soonyoung’s chagrin.  _

_ It’s worth all the pain, though, because Soonyoung keeps kissing him and cooing “my poor baby, my poor concussed baby,” and squeezes his hand through every stitch.  _

* * *

  
  


Soonyoung’s apartment looks like it always does. The lights are on, and Wonwoo can hear the hum of  _ Nobody  _ by Wonder Girls underneath the voices. He hears Chan’s cackle and tries not to focus on the lump in his throat. 

His hand fidgets at his side, and he almost reaches for his phone to call Sana, or Mingyu. Probably Mingyu, because Sana would definitely just yell at him and refuse to come pick him up. He reaches up with a shaking fist and knocks on the door. 

There’s shuffling and a muffled “ _ Hello? _ ” from Seungkwan, and Wonwoo panics, because if Seungkwan answers the door, he won’t make it out alive, he’s sure. But then there’s footsteps and Chan’s soft, “ _ I’ve got it, hyung. _ ” Wonwoo relaxes a little, because this was pretty much Chan’s idea, anyway. 

Then, a petulant, “ _ Sit down, Chan-ah, hyungie can answer the door. _ ” from Wonwoo’s favorite voice in the world, and before Wonwoo can cry or puke or run, the door opens. 

Soonyoung stands in front of him, Hoshi tucked underneath his arm. He’s wearing his tiger slippers. He goes through about 85 emotions, because he’s never been good at hiding his feelings. The outside air is cool, but Wonwoo can feel the warmth coming from the doorframe. It’s probably from inside, but Wonwoo wants to think it’s actually Soonyoung. He brings warmth wherever he goes. 

He swallows, adjusting his grip on Hoshi. “Wonwoo?” He asks, his tone open and confused. Maybe a trace of hope, and Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat. 

“Hi, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo says, losing his nerve rapidly, but he’s cut off by the disembodied voice of Seungkwan, asking, “Wonwoo? As in  _ Jeon Wonwoo _ ?  _ Here _ ? What the hell is he doing at my goddamned apa—” but he’s quickly cut off by an  _ oof  _ from what Wonwoo assumes is Chan, tackling him. “Chan, what the hell—?” “Shut  _ up _ , hyung!”

Soonyoung’s eyes are still on Wonwoo, obviously unphased by the WWE smackdown in his living room. His face is so open, and searching, Wonwoo loses his breath. His hair has grown out a bit. It’s darker, too, and fluffier. He looks like an adult, even with his wriggling black cat and tiger pyjama pants. Wonwoo wants to cry, because his eyes look tired, and maybe a little sad, but they’re still shining. He’s still Soonyoung. 

“Hi, um,” Wonwoo starts, but he struggles, because Soonyoung is here, and he is so, so  _ real _ . His nose, always sprinkled with freckles after the summer, his hands, soft and puffy, are all real. His chest swells, and the words get caught in his throat. 

He closes his eyes, and swallows, because  _ no _ . Because Jeon Wonwoo may be a coward, damnit, but he’s going to pretend he’s not, even if it’s just for today. Because Soonyoung is  _ here _ , and the thought of losing him again threatens to split Wonwoo in half. 

“I’m in love with you,” He blurts, because fuck it. “I’ve been in love with you since I was 21, and I’m never going to stop being in love with you.” Soonyoung’s eyebrows have drawn together, and his eyes are so, so bright. “I fucked up, and I didn’t say it enough because I’m a coward, and I left because I’m a coward, and, and—” He stumbles, blinking rapidly. “And I didn’t come after you, because I’m a coward. And it’s the biggest regret I’ve ever had, and the last year has been miserable and I just didn’t know what to say, because I don’t deserve you, Soonyoung.” He stops to choke back a sob. For the first time in maybe his entire life, Soonyoung stands, not saying anything. 

  
  


“But I don’t care, not anymore. I don’t care if I don’t deserve you, because I  _ want _ you. I—I need you, Soonyoung. But most of all, I  _ want _ you.” He pushes up his glasses, because it’s getting hard to keep his hands from shaking. “I want you now, I want you tomorrow, I want you forever. I want to marry you and have so many little kids and cats and a big house, and it’s selfish because you deserve better, but I don’t care.” Wonwoo laughs, frantic, because he’s rambling and it’s not at all what he was going to say, but it’s the truth. “I don’t care, because if it means that I get to have you, I don’t care if I’m being selfish.” 

He stands back, feeling the tears sliding down his cheeks. Soonyoung’s crying, too, but he’s always been a big crybaby. The sob in the back of Wonwoo’s throat aches, and he feels like he’s just split open his chest and laid his heart on the dusty doorstep. 

Soonyoung sniffles, still gripping onto Hoshi. “Wonwoo…” he says, shakily, and Wonwoo braces himself. 

“You’re so stupid.” He murmurs, shaking his head. Wonwoo looks up in confusion, but then Soonyoung is letting Hoshi off onto the couch and flings himself, violently, around Wonwoo’s neck. 

Wonwoo sobs, broken and open into the crook of Soonyoung’s neck. He’s soft, and so, so warm, just like Wonwoo remembers. “Please,  _ please _ , don’t leave again.” Soonyoung cries into his shoulder. 

Wonwoo shakes his head, holding him as tight as he can, and then even tighter. “Never, Soonie, never again.” 

Soonyoung pulls back to look at Wonwoo’s face, hands coming up to hold either side of his hair. “Promise?” He asks, snotty and swollen and so, so beautiful. 

Wonwoo takes one of his hands, and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I will spend every day for the rest of my life loving you, Kwon Soonyoung.” Soonyoung lets out a laugh, wet and stuffy. “Promise.” 

  
  


The next morning, Wonwoo wakes up in a cold sweat, reaching over desperately to grab at the left side of his mattress. 

But, before he can, there’s a soft hand wrapping up in his, and there’s a soft kiss being pressed to his brow. “Shhh, I’m right here.” Soonyoung says, voice hoarse from sleep. “Just a nightmare.” 

Wonwoo opens his eyes, tears prickling from the bad dream, and he sighs with relief. Soonyoung is looking down at him, propped up on his elbow. He closes his eyes again and breathes in, deep, trying his best to sear this moment into his memory. 

Then, there are fingers tickling his sideburns, and he opens his eyes to find Soonyoung with a wrinkled brow and pursed lips. “You really let yourself go, Wonwoo. Look at your hair!” 

Wonwoo laughs, feeling the anvil lift off his chest. Yes, this really  _ is _ Soonyoung. “Didn’t have anyone to impress.” He shrugs, stretching his arms with a yawn. 

“Really?” Soonyoung teases, an eyebrow raised. “No hot dates?” 

“Nope.” Wonwoo answers, then boops his nose. “There’s nobody like you, Soonyoung.” 

He kind of wanted it to be teasing, but the truth bleeds out quick and heavy. It’s true, though, and Wonwoo sighs at the thought. There really is nobody like Soonyoung, and he gets to wake up next to him. He feels giddy. 

“God, is that a good or a bad thing?” Soonyoung asks, grinning like the cheshire cat. Leave it to him, to read Wonwoo’s mind. 

“You’ve ruined me for life.” Wonwoo says, twisting their interlocked fingers. “You’re too good, nobody else can ever compare.” 

Soonyoung snorts, but he’s blushing. “Geez, when did you become such a sap, Jeon?” 

“When I thought I’d fucked up and lost you forever,” Wonwoo huffs, and Soonyoung frowns. “But it’s okay, because now I know what I have,” He kisses Soonyoung’s hand. “And why I really shouldn’t let that happen again, no matter how stupid I am.” 

Soonyoung pokes his cheek, scrunching his nose. “You’re such a dork. And to be fair,” He cocks his head to the side. “It was really a two-person job, that fight, and breaking up.” He smiles, melancholy. “We’re both stupid, Nonu.” 

Wonwoo grins at that, and he’s not sure why. He doesn’t really care, though, because Soonyoung looks at him like he’s the last piece of kimchi in the jar. He’s never felt so loved in his whole life. 

“Wanna be stupid together, Soonyoung-ah?” He muses, turning on his side to face Soonyoung. 

“Ah, I think we’ve already accomplished that, Wonwoo-ssi.” He rolls his eyes at Wonwoo’s pout. “Yes, I would love to be stupid with you, Wonwoo.” 

Wonwoo laughs, then pounces on Soonyoung, kissing him into the mattress like there’s no tomorrow. There could not be, and Wonwoo would only care because that would mean he wouldn’t get to adopt another cat and get a big house and have a dozen kids with Soonyoung, and that thought fills his chest, bright and gleaming. 

  
  


Later, in the shower, Soonyoung laughs as Wonwoo rubs the shampoo into his scalp. 

“Is that my exfoliator?” 

“Hm?” Wonwoo answers, and then blushes when he sees the green tub Soonyoung is pointing at. “Oh. Yeah.” 

Soonyoung snorts. “Wonwoo, it’s like, half full. And probably expired. Why didn’t you throw it away?” 

Wonwoo doesn’t answer, and  _ goddamnit _ , the tub glares at him for his silence. Soonyoung turns around to face him, giggling. 

“Oh my god,  _ Wonwoo _ . You missed me so much you kept this stupid tub of exfoliator in here for a  _ year _ ?”

Wonwoo elects to bury his face in the crook of Soonyoung’s neck, shampoo in his eyes be damned. He mumbles, “Maybe...” against Soonyoung’s skin, and Soonyoung lets out a loud cackle. 

He pulls his face out and presses a kiss to his nose. “You’re adorable, I may eat you alive.” Wonwoo almost responds  _ that would be fine,  _ but Soonyoung continues. “How about we throw out the gross, year-old sugar scrub and buy a new one, hm?” 

Wonwoo pouts, and Soonyoung kisses it away. He pouts again, and Soonyoung kisses him again with an eye roll. “Okay, fine. Can we get a watermelon-scented one?” 

“Whatever you want, babe, okay?” 

“Okay.” Wonwoo says, grinning. He couldn’t give a fuck less about the exfoliator. He has everything he wants, already. (except for maybe a new litter box for Hoshi, but—irrelevant)

  
  


They’re leaving to go pick up groceries because—“Wonwoo, did you seriously only eat takeout for an entire  _ year _ ?”— when Soonyoung notices something as Wonwoo locks the door. 

“The door.” he says nodding at the splinters of wood. “You never got it fixed? Isn’t that dangerous?” 

Wonwoo shrugs, inspecting the door. “The lock still works, so I don’t think so.” 

“Still, that has to be, like, a splinter hazard.” Soonyoung laughs, slipping his hand into Wonwoo’s. “Do you wanna get it fixed?” 

Wonwoo presses a peck to his forehead, craning his neck for a moment to look at the busted door. “No,” he says, grinning. “I like it as is.” 

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, tongue poking his cheek as Wonwoo swings their arms. 

  
“God, Wonwoo, you’re such a  _ dork _ , you know that?” 

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed! soonwoo are my best boys and they are just in love forever. 
> 
> it was actually really fun to write as wonwoo, and he didn't fight me at all which made this such a blast to pump out, even if i cried like a baby bc feelings. u know?
> 
> fun fact! the red velvet song soonyoung was singing was [psycho](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CYH422oy1cZNoo0GTG1TK) bc i am cheesy and predictable. 
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! i have a couple of fics in the works rn (junshua pt 2 & bss!superheroes), and i'll probably have more time to work on them during the winter break, so look forward to those i guess?? idk they're just as much of a hot mess as these past few have been. if you'd be willing to beta for me, pls message me LOL i need help
> 
> if you read all of this, i love and appreciate you! horanghae 🐯 [twt!](https://twitter.com/97SUNSH1NE) come say hi!!


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